My Lover, My Obsession
by TheHildur92
Summary: Callisto visits Xena s camp in the early morning hours. She thinks about her feelings for the warrior.


_I sneak into their camp as the darkness begins to abate. Judging by the sounds coming from the bedroll on one side of the fire which has burned down to ambers, the doze of sleeping herb I snuck into Gabrielle´s stash earlier that evening while nobody could see still has the desired effect. Her travelling companion likes to pretend she doesn´t know about Gabrielle drowning her sorrows in alchohol, so unlike the bard. I guess a weak woman like that irritating little blond needs to have her methods of escape when she has seen so much darkness and death in her short life. I, however, don´t like to numb the pain. I want to be awake for every second of it. _

_I stop by Gabrielle's bedroll and gaze down at her and wonder once again why Xena would prefer her to me. After all, she is weak, made of wood which breaks easily and burns even brighter, whereas Xena and I are made from a different material altogether. We are iron, which does not bend or break. We were forged in the same fire and thus, we are linked by the chains that inevitably bind us together._

_What would the innocent little blond know about guiding an army to a raid, the fever of anticipation as you order your men to attack? What would she know about having some innocent young thing on the wrong side of your blade, begging for mercy? What would she know about playing God? Gabrielle knows nothing of the power it gives you to be the Creator of your own morality. The laws of men no longer guide you and you experience freedom for the first time._

_I move from Gabrielle's bedroll to the one of her travelling companion. Xena looks to be asleep but we both know she isn't. I left a broken branch lying along the road they took the night before, and I knew the old warlord would see it and recognise it as a sign to wait for me. Neither of us wishes for Gabrielle to learn what is going on between us and therefore we have resorted to subterfuge in order to keep her continually in the dark. _

_I am surprised to suddenly be lying on the ground and it takes me a minute to realize that Xena must have kicked my feet from under me. Before I know it, the dark-haired beauty has risen like the dead, straddles me and holds me down tightly using her own body as leverage. _

_Xena quickly covers the protest forming on my lips with her own and I have no choice in the matter except to respond. Soon enough, the fires that generally are only ambers leap into flames. Only she can do that to me. _

_After we are done, we lie side by side on her bedroll. Xena falls asleep for real this time and I allow myself the forbidden pleasure of running my fingers through her raven locks. My thoughts drift back to my childhood, when she rode into my village, killed my family and completely changed the course of my life. I can remember the hate which consumed me afterwards, the promise I made to my dead loved ones in Elysium that I would seek revenge for the wrongdoings they suffered. The green eyes of my sister appear often to me in my dreams, dead, accusing eyes, wondering when I will kill the woman who murdered her in cold blood. I tell her, and myself, that this is simply yet another strategy. After all, what better way to kill the infamous Warrior Princess then to get close to her and then strike when she least expects it? Yet, as I lie here now and gaze down at her, I know that I have long since crossed the line. I once called Xena a sentimental fool. _

_I should have used those words on myself instead._

_The reason I sought her out was not to exact revenge, it was to become a part of her life. As twisted as it may seem, I wanted her to want to kill me. It was better to have her fighting me then ignoring me. In that way, at least, I would be a part of her life. I can't tell when this need for revenge turned into an obsession with Xena but it is apparent in every aspect of my life. After all, I invented myself in her image. I became the very thing I hate the most. _

_I kiss her brow and then arise from the bedroll and pull my armour back on. The drug I gave Gabrielle will wear off soon and I must leave before she wakes or all of Tartarus will echo with her anger. _

_Once dressed, I turn to look at Xena one last time before departing. She looks peaceful when sleeping, as if nothing could touch her, not even the Gods themselves. I can't afford luxuries such as sleep._

_I recall easily when she saved me from the fury of the mob who wanted to kill me the first time we met. After that I believed that perhaps she might be the answer to the riddle, the light in the darkness, the person who might save me from myself. Xena might be able to quench the fires within me and dull the hate like an old blade. We could buy a farm together from my booty and have chickens and a vegetable garden. _

_Then, I got over. _

_The darkness is not a part of me any longer, it's who I am. And yet, despite my own self-hatred because of how weak I am, I can't stay away. I vow to myself each single night that I will never see Xena again, but that promise is broken the next morning without hesitation. _

_She is my Maker, and I am hers. She is my God as I worship her. This will only end when one of us dies. _

_I turn and disappear into the foliage, allowing the forest to swallow me whole. _


End file.
